A New Rider
by Hand Knit
Summary: An dragon egg hatches for Hope Elainsdaughter - a regular occurrence. But in training, she stumbles upon a problem and takes it upon herself to fix it. On the way, though, she meets Torix, the son of a mass murder and king that everyone would rater forget. He journeys with Hope, and she must chose between love and loyalty to save her world.


Hope dragged the brush through her hair, sighing in annoyance. Today was another egg procession, just one among a million.

Ever since Eragon and Saphira had found the cave of dragons' eggs over a decade ago, things had taken off. The dragons had hatched and spawned new dragons, and humans, elves, and dwarves alike had been chosen to be bonded with. Seeing a dragon outside her house was a common, everyday thing.

A dragon egg or two came to Palancar Valley every week or so, and about a quarter of them had hatched.

This afternoon was particularly inconvenient, being the harvest time and the first frost coming soon. A whole afternoon was truly annoying, and could cost the town a large amount of grain.

The New Government had been finding ways to make farming and whatnot easier with the dragons, but this newfound technology hadn't reached "simple" Palancar Valley - nor did they have the expenses to pay for it.

Hope's hair now mastered, she trundled downstairs to her mother, Elain. She was alarmed to find that it was noon; if the pair didn't hurry, then they would be late for the egg procession and penalized. At least she would would be able to see her friend Ismira.

She and her mother rushed outside and leaped on horses, though it was completely "unladylike." Human women were not treated the same as elven women; which is "lesser than men." Honestly.

They arrived on time, fortunately, with Hope's hair once again in a tangle of knots. They managed to worm themselves in a middle spot, and waited.

After what felt like an eternity, it was Hope's turn. It wasn't anything magnificent, just walking up to the egg, staring at it, trying not to pay attention to the guards goofing off, and waiting to be hustled off to the horses, or possibly another egg.

The whole thing was boring, usually, but this dragon egg was. . . special, somehow. It was an unique color (lime green with specks of orange and black), with a shine to it that just caught ones eye.

So Hope found herself gaping at it, not just pretending. It wa beautiful, wonderful and glowing, and it. . . cracked?

The crack was small, and the fourteen year old girl was moved along. Another five people went by before the officials noticed.

When it was, though, a small gasp went up with the crowd. Even if several eggs had hatched in the past, not one had in the last three years. Palancar Valley was beginning to become known as "unlucky."

The twenty people in front and behind Hope were lined up again. Nothing happened. It was called a false alarm and all the people were dismissed early.

Ismira ran up to Hope afterwords. "Wasn't that amazing?! It cracked! It actually cracked! And _you_ were right in that line, lucky goose. What if you had made the dragon egg hatch?"

Hope bit her lip. "I didn't, that's for sure," she lied. Ismira huffed. "You're so distant these days. Wait - don't tell me you found a boy? It's too early, and you have to remember that we made a promise to find husbands together, right?"

Hope rolled her eyes. "Of course I remember. And I'm only distant because it's harvest time. If you helped out, it would be over faster and we could spend more time together."

Ismira's face turned red. "Sorry!" Hope turned. "Sorry, Ismira. That's my mother. I've got to go." She waved in parting before turning away.

She jogged toward Elain, thinking about the day. She knew it had cracked for her, there wasn't any doubt.

When Hope reached her mother, she was covered in mud and scratches. Elain sighed in disapproval. "Look at you! Can't you go a day without a bath?" The older woman shook her head. Hope blushed. "Mother, since the egg cracked, will we be going back tomorrow?"

Elain pursed her lips. "I'm not sure, dear. It all depends on the progress of the harvest. With your father gone. . ."

Hope looked to the side. Horst had died five years ago in a blacksmithing accident, before the family was involved in harvesting. They had moved on, but life hadn't been the same without him.

Her mother glanced up, her eyes widening at the position of the sun. "Goodness, look at the time! It's getting late!" Mother and daughter sped off to the house that Horst had built so many years ago.


End file.
